Red Chocolate
by PetPetAngel
Summary: [Sequel to Nightmares] [WonkaCharlie Slash] For some, the past is the worst nightmare imaginable. [The beginning is strange. Please forgive.]


PetPetAngel: The ever wanted (or not) continuation to "Nightmares." I warn you, the beginning to this makes NO SENSE. Okies? It will LATER. Okies?

Trespasser: Just. Keep. Going.

PetPetAngel: I am so annoyed at you right now.

Trespasser: Mission, completed.

X

Red Chocolate

Written by:

PetPetAngel

Fic Type: One-Shot

Pairing: Wonka/Charlie

Dedication: Leslie. She so got my ass moving on this for some reason that neither of us know why. XD Luvs ya so much Les!

X

Disclaimer: Not mine. Could you really tell? (cries)

X

_You stand there,  
Your silhouette shadowed by the moonlit sky.  
Your coat blows around you, _

_Surrounding you in silvered reds,  
Igniting your look of fury with that pearly white smile.  
Though afraid many might be,  
You're power strikes me as awesome,  
And I find my breath caught in my throat.  
You stand there,  
Your silhouette shadowed by moonlit sky..._

- "Your Shadowed Silhouettte" by PetPetAngel _  
_  
X

Charlie had always hated the color red. He had always hated it with a passion. It was strange, he'd admit, very strange. Wasn't it just stupid to hate a color? But Charlie couldn't help it. He naturally hated the color red, rightfully. Why would he hate the color red? Well you see- oh, he wouldn't go into that now.

That was the only thing that set him off about Wonka, he wore red everyday, all day. Of course, Charlie couldn't hold it against the man, obviously. Hold him against what? Wearing clothes? Charlie sighed. But his hate for the color red was probably unending, and it would probably stay that way too, unfortunately. Charlie hated the color red so much, he could almost say he was afraid of it...

That's pretty pathetic too, wasn't it? Being afraid of a color... Who ever heard of such a thing? It was truly something Charlie wished he could change about himself. Why be afraid of a color? Well, even if Charlie wouldn't admit it, he certainly did have his reasons. But it certainly was a relief when he could see Wonka walking about in a casual black shirt or sweater, for once not adoned with the custom frock coat.

Though he'd never admit to Wonka himself, Charlie liked the way Wonka's shirt clung to him, and secretly, he'd usually end up watching the tense muscles flex under the material. It was strange the man seemed so lithe yet his muscles were so obvious... Or perhaps his shirt was just tight? Probably both, Charlie thought. Now where was he?

Ah yes. It's sad, Charlie knew, Charlie wouldn't deny it, and it was strange, yes, very, very strange. But he couldn't help it. As a child so many things happened... So many terrible things... Charlie probably hated red because it was the color of the life giving liquid- blood. Now why hate something that gave you life? Charlie silently agreed with himself when he said that one could only see so much blood spill before it got to you, and messed you up.

Charlie realized deftly that he had passed that point a long time ago.

But red wasn't always bad, for every bad side there had to be a good side, like that man... That man from before. Charlie wondered whatever happened to him, he was so mysterious, and Charlie remembered he had looked up to the stranger with an odd passion and respect, and he remembered he would see him at the park, on the streets, but only when other people weren't. Charlie closed his eyes and tried not to think, but it didn't quite work that way as memories washed over him.

X

_At seven, Charlie already knew too much. He had seen -and experianced- far too much, but as long as no one knew, it was fine. It was always fine because if no one knew, it didn't have to be true, it didn't have to be real. It didn't have to hurt. It didn't have to happen, especially not everyday like it did. It was just terrible, it was just... But as long as it wasn't real to the world, it wasn't happening to Charlie._

He had been on his way home from school, running because his mom expected him home earlier than it was. Charlie never expected hands to snake out from an alleyway, grabbing roughly at him, pulling him into the dark alley. He let out a yell, but the near barren streets left the boy with no response - and the feeling of horror and dread locked firmly in his stomach. Charlie didn't know exactly what was going to happen, but he knew it wasn't good - especially for him.

_The first punch hit, and it left Charlie slightly dazed as his head protested as well as his neck. A second, and Charlie knew that the rest would hurt even more. A third, and then more hands joined in, hitting him harder, more frequently, hitting him in more places, leaving bruises. Hands picked him up from his shirt collar, and punches hit him blow after blow in the stomach until Charlie gasped for breath, lungs burning with a painful sensation that he had never felt before.  
_

_Those hands, the ones that had him by his shirt collar, threw him roughly across the alleyway, kicking him immediately after he landed. Charlie felt tears sting his eyes, and soon there was nothing to him but the wet, salty moisture that streamed down his face in silently flowing rivers. Kicks and more punches rained down on him, and he felt like crying out, but nothing came but strangled whimpers and some choked sobs._

Soon, Charlie saw the faint shine of metal in the quickly darkening skies, and he whimpered as knives slashed him violently, he tried to scream, but a hand muffled the sound to an almost silent cry. He heard his shirt tear, straight down the front, and he felt it slide down his nimble shoulders. He felt something warm - ah! He arched.

Hands pinned his arms above his head. 

A tongue teased none too playfully with his nipple, nipping and twisted and only becoming more painful when Charlie tried to move away. A rough hand -it felt nearly like sandpaper, Charlie noted- played with his other nipple, and Charlie could do nothing but twist and turn and arch into the painfully pleasuring touch. He felt the tears come more easily now, and he prayed to god that someone -anyone- would help him.

Knuckles pressed into his arousal, and his face flushed deeply as he again vainly tried to cry out, but another mouth met his own, a tongue forcing itself into his mouth, again muffling his yell. He felt hands struggle with his pant's buttons, and he began to thrash his no longer pinned legs -they had been pinned? Charlie thought distractedly- but found no success as the man just bit hit hip -strange punishment- though he'd be the first to admit, it did hurt. 

_His pants -a size too big- slid easily off his slim sides, and Charlie was left in nothing but his boxers and socks. Someone whispered stiffly into his ear, "So young... Such youthful prey... Such an easy kill... Once we're done with you, you'll wish you had never been born..." A lick and a bite to his ear, Charlie saw from the corner of his eye that two men were beginning to take off their pants, and he felt panic and unused adrenaline rush through him like mad. He had to make this stop, before... Before... Before something **really** bad happened..._

Suddenly, the light click of heels against pavement could be heard, and Charlie's attackers froze in their spot. The clicking grew louder and louder by the second, and everyone just froze in place where they were as a lithe silhouette came into view at the mouth of the alley. The attackers began to laugh, whether at the man -that was a man, wasn't it? Charlie thought- or at themselves, Charlie was sure he didn't know, and he didn't think the stranger did either.

Two of the men charged blindly at the man, and Charlie couldn't help but yell, "Look out!" He was bit again but kept his tearing eyes on the man, who, surprisingly, made a move backwards, grabbing the wrist of one of them, snapping it and throwing him back at his friend. Infuriated, his friend charged at him, and the man merely kicked him -ah no, not there!- but yes, **there.** The man stumbled, trying to stay on his feet.

_The two who remained occupied with Charlie lifted their eyes to their fallen and injured comrades, wincing. But other than that there was no change as they went back to their 'fun' with Charlie. Charlie's eyes were locked with the strangers, wide and disbelieving with a hint of fear and desperation. The man's heels clicked as he moved to stand behind the two remaining men, and his eyes looked again with Charlie's. "Leave now," he spoke in a deadly quiet voice, "Before I become angered."_

The men looked at him with a look of slight discontent, but they shook him off again and Charlie heard a light growl erupt from the man's throat. The stranger's ears seemed almost to twitch as he caught the other man's light chuckling. That seemed to be all the stranger was willing to take as he hesitated none when he connected his heel with the man's neck. "You disgust me," he told the flailing body. "You filthy drunk."

Turning to the other man, who's eyes had newly widened in terror, he gave a cruel kind of smirk to the fretful man. In protection, and perhaps cowardice, he had brought Charlie's body against his own, as a shield. Or so the stranger thought. As he took a step foreward, the man took a step back, and placed his knife teeteringly on Charlie's neck. With a smirk in his voice, he murmured to the tophatted stranger, "Come closer and the boy will pay. You can't have the death of such a young boy on your mind, now can you?"

The stranger nodded as if agreeing, but his lips moved as he locked eyes with Charlie once again, murmuring, 'I want you to duck, okay?' Charlie didn't nod, but he let an almost undetectable smile come to his face, letting the stranger know whenever he could was the best time. Taking note, the stranger carefully took a cane that had been hidden by the tails of his jacket, a made a blow to the man's chest. Charlie was dropped ungracefully to ground as the man struggled to take in a breath, the wind knocked out of him. The stranger sneaked behind him, and knocked him out, the body toppling on top of his friend. 

_  
"Are you okay?"_

_Though the stranger was now right in front of him, Charlie couldn't help but jump. Though this man had saved him, what if it was all an act? -He's dangerous, Charlie thought, Very dangerous.- Unknowingly, Charlie had noticibly begun to panic, as his head ventured to look in all directions. The man, noticing this, placed a lavander gloved hand on the boy's shoulder, murmuring, "Don't worry. There's nothing to be afraid of. If I had truly wanted to hurt you, believe me, I would've done it by now."_

Charlie wasn't sure whether or not he was comforted by that. The words themselves offered little comfort, but the man's voice had lost it's deadly edge, a soothing softness all that was left behind. Charlie nodded and smiled, and the man smiled at that. "Now get your pants on, I can't imagine how cold you must be," he said in that same voice, and Charlie shivered. Grabbing his pants that had been discarded to the side after they had been taken off, Charlie realized that his cuts would stain, and badly.

As if reading his mind, the stranger said, "Don't worry. In fact, put your pants down, and close your eyes." Charlie hesitantly did that, and nearly jumped again as the stranger placed his hands on his shoulders, a bit more firmly than before. Feeling a strange sensation of warmth shoot through his body, Charlie had to resist opening his eyes. Were- were his pants back on? Charlie realized that he didn't ache as bad before, and that he couldn't feel blood on his back. "Open your eyes," the stranger whispered.

Charlie gasped as he opened his eyes. It wasn't for the fact he was dressed, his clothes no longer torn or stained, or the fact that his injuries were gone, nothing but a dull pain left in it's wake. It was the man's eyes. They were the clearest and deepest blue that Charlie had ever seen, like pools of dark water that Charlie was sure he could drown in. Sure, he had locked eyes with the stranger, but his proximity was much closer, and Charlie was left speechless with the man. "How-? What did you-?"

The man placed a lavender gloved finger on his lips, silencing him quickly. "You cannot tell **anyone** of what I have done tonight, am I clear?" Charlie nodded mutely, earning another smile from the man. "Charlie, my dear beloved Charlie... I only so hope that I will see you again, and hopefully sooner than you think. But I must take my leave now..." The man caressed Charlie's cheek with a loving touch. As the man rose from his spot, Charlie had the urge to reach out and take him back, putting aside his slight fear, he called out.

"Wait! Please," there was a slight tone of desperation in Charlie's voice and he knew it. The man did not turn around, albeit turned his head to face Charlie. Charlie was breathless staring into those cerulean orbs, but he managed, "What's your name?" The man smiled softly at him, and before completely turning on his heel, Charlie heard him murmur.

"You can call me Willy. And leave it at that." Charlie nodded.

X

Charlie jolted up as he felt hands on his shoulders, going defensive by default, the images of his dream still playing in his head. "Charlie? Charlie? Calm down, you need to calm down... It's okay... What happened?" Mr. Wonka's questioning voice echoed in his head, and Charlie whimpered, getting up quickly. "Charlie?" Mr. Wonka rose with him, intending ot follow him, but Charlie turned quickly on his heel to face Mr. Wonka, but the words seemed to escape him as he looked into Mr. Wonka's eyes.

Charlie realized that the eyes that he was looking into were the same -if not nearly identical- to the eyes in his flashback. Charlie had never forgotten those eyes, they were always in the back of his mind. Charlie knew his heart was beating wildly as he took in Wonka's form again, and it struck him hard that there was a very good possibilty that they were the same person. The hair, the tophat, the coat, and oh gods, the _cane._ "We'll talk about this later, Mr. Wonka... Just give me some time and you know where I'll be."

Charlie ran off before he could check to see if Mr. Wonka understood. Charlie was almost positive he did anyway. So many corridors, Charlie almost thought he was lost as the hallways blurred together. He was certain he had nearly run into several Oompa Loompas, and he was just waiting to collide with a door or wall. He wasn't thankful he hadn't yet. Tears were stinging his eyes horribly, but Charlie refused to break down in the middle of the hallway.

Charlie recognized the set of doors he passed next, and with desperation he opened it, closed it, and leaned on it heavily, sinking slowly to the ground. Gods... Charlie thought. If Mr. Wonka were Willy... Then he knew _everything..._ But it didn't seem he remembered... So did that mean he wasn't? Of course not... Charlie couldn't help but let his head fall back with a satisfying _'thud'_ against the door. Charlie got up slowly, walked over to the other side of the room, and fell into the endless blankets and pillows of Mr. Wonka's bed.

Charlie didn't know how long he stayed there, how long it took him to calm his breathing, how long it took for him to set his thoughts straight. All he knew was when Mr. Wonka knocked lightly on the wooden doors, peeking a head in. Charlie was certain that it was night by the time Mr. Wonka came in, in his pajamas, staring curiously at the teenager burried in his pillows.

"You said you'd explain. I'm holding you to that you know."

There was silence from the teen on the bed, but Mr. Wonka wasn't going to let him get away with that. But that didn't mean he was going to _force_ the information out of the young man, Mr. Wonka felt that was violating, a big lover no-no. Never ever would he violate Charlie's sense of privacy. Climbing onto the bed, he crawled over to the quiet teen, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. There wasn't much of a response, a few coherent mumbles is all.

Wonka brought Charlie to him, coaxing the boy to relax in his arms, and eventually, he did. Now settled comfortably in his lap, Charlie glasped the silken fabric of Mr. Wonka's pajamas, whimpering slightly, whether confusion, pain, or fear, Charlie wasn't sure. Charlie felt the familiar sensation of hands running through his hair, brown locks strewn this way and that from his light sleep. "What's going on Charlie? What might you be hiding?" Charlie smiled at Mr. Wonka's use of the word 'might', never too rude to assume, was he?

But those damned hands in his hair were so distracting, bringing back memories and felt tears sting his eyes again, and he tried vainly to push them back, but to no avail. Tears flowed, and Charlie felt glad that Mr. Wonka didn't ask any questions, as he let Charlie poor out his memories in tears.

X

_It was pouring outside._

_Charlie was running as fast as he could, as long as he could get to the park, then he would be safe, Willy would save him, he knew he would make them go away... He tripped and stumbled on things he couldn't see, and he let out a yelp as he fell and rolled slightly. But through the slight haze, shock, and fear, Charlie saw the park safely ahead of him. Terror filled him when he felt the punches first come, oh gods, he couldn't go through this again, no, never again! _

_Oh gods - it hurt so much more when you knew what was going to happen, Charlie thought. Kicks, one to the head that left him woozy, oh he couldn't have briuses, not now! Charlie heard a yelp from above him, and opened his eyes, unaware when he ever shut them. Willy looming form was standing proudly above him, protecting him. "W-Willy!" Charlie voice shook, once again not accustomed well to it's current pain. Willy made a move to go after the running bullies, but Charlie's voice stopped him. "P-please... Don't g-go!"_

That seemed to take Willy by complete surprise, that small voice calling out for him with that clinging desperation. Turning around, he took in the small boy on the ground, drinking in his eyes and noting his unsteady breathing, the cuts, and the bruises that were already beginning to form. He placed his hands on Charlie's shoulder's just like he always did, but he wasn't prepared to feel them shaking so violently. More quickly that usually, he healed Charlie, and a pressing need brought him to take the boy tightly in his arms.

_Charlie clutched to Willy like his lifeline, Willy's comforting words seemed loud in the silence, and Charlie felt him get up to walk over and set both of them on the bench. Charlie couldn't help but begin to pour he feelings out to Willy, who had been extremely quiet through this ordeal - given, he was a naturally quiet man, Charlie had assessed, but around Charlie he seemed to soften a bit and Charlie thought that if he clarified some things, maybe Willy would say something. He could feel Willy's hands in his hair, and he almost couldn't continue. It felt nice, nice and gentle, like Willy._

"I thought you weren't coming," Charlie said first, "And I thought you had forgotten about me Willy," Charlie smiled looking up from where his head had previously burried into Willy's chest, "But I know now that you would never forget about me Willy!" Charlie tightened his arms around Willy's slim waist, burrowing his head back into Willy chest. Charlie could've sworn he heard a choked sound come from Willy's throat, and he looked up to see a shocking sight.

Willy was crying. 

_"Don't cry, Willy." Charlie wiped Willy's tears away gently, surprised that Willy would let him. He had seen someone try to touch Willy, he couldn't remember who they were, they were really short though, like shorter than Charlie even! Willy had pushed the little man away, but he let Charlie brush his tears away? Charlie smiled at this thought, and huggled Willy tightly, but the chiming of the clock alerted him that he had to go. Getting up, Willy followed suit. Charlie was surprised that either of them didn't seem to be bothered by the rain._

Charlie turned around as did Willy, intending for each to go their own seperate ways now. But the faint clap of Willy's heels getting softer and softer was too much, and Charlie turned around. "Wait! Willy!" Charlie wasn't quite sure why he had called out again to him, but he felt like he needed to do something, and even though he wasn't sure what, he knew it had to do with Willy. He ran to him, motioning for Willy to lean down to his height, and quite unexpectedly, he kissed Willy briefly on the lips.

He skipped away, leaving a very shocked Willy to ponder his thoats in the rain.

X

Charlie shook his head lightly, realizing that Mr. Wonka was still holding him close, still running his hands through his hair, still driving him semi mad. Charlie felt he had to answer Mr. Wonka's question, and he spoke quietly. "I've been having some weird nightmares, and... I think you're in them... And they're really scary and they always make me feel so... Terrible." Wonka didn't make any motion that indicated that he had heard Charlie at all, and that worried Charlie a little bit. It was probably silly, he thought, but that didn't stop him from worrying at least a little bit. Finally, Wonka spoke.

"I thought that last dream with me, that you had... I though that was the last of the scary-me dreams..."

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Charlie began hastily, "No, no! You were... Like... It's like... When I was younger... I was bullied a lot... And... I started having these weird dreams... And they brought back memories, and... There was this guy, this... Man, really, and he saved me once... And then I kept seeing him and his name was-" Charlie was surprised when Mr. Wonka cut him off. There was a knowing smile on Mr. Wonka's face that Charlie didn't understand.

"Willy?" Charlie nodded mutely, readying himself to finish explaining, but Mr. Wonka began speaking. "And you think that I'm him... Well, to be perfectly honest with you since I'm sure you don't want to play games right now... I am him. You se Charlie, this is a small town here, that it is... Of course word spreads when someone is born, and I'm not sure what, but I paid extra attention to that tiny ad in the paper. When you started gong to school, I saw you by my factory a lot... And you were such an _interesting_ boy, Charlie, you were!" Mr. Wonka's hands did not cease running through Charlie's hands, and they lowered to wrap more securely around the boy's waist.

Mr. Wonka rested his head into Charlie's hair, taking in his scent. "So I watched you, secretly of course, when no one else was there. After the first day I spent observing you, it became almost another obsession of mine, you were... You were different from all the other kids in school, you innocent, kind... They were all destined to grow up into terrors, brats, just like that mumbler Mike and that brat Veruca and that competitive freak Violet and that pig Augustas..." Charlie gave Mr. Wonka a chastizing lok, but he ignored it half-heartedly.

"At first I didn't think you could be real, I thought you were an act... I admit, I had no confidence in you whatsoever... But then you weren't. You weren't what I expected you to be at all, you were... You were special. Especially special. You were sweeter than chocolate. And when for the first time I stumbled on you being beaten ... My anger flared like it never had before, and I _knew_ I had to protect you as best I could, because I couldn't let your innocence be destroyed." Charlie felt Mr. Wonka's arms tighten securely around him, and he placed his hands gently on Mr. Wonka's arms.

"When they were going to... To _rape_ you, I didn't think I was ever any angrier, I wasn't even angry, I was _furious._ I couldn't see any humanity in that, I wanted to kill them so bad, but even I don't have such a black heart for that, and I couldn't in front of you." Charlie turned around to face Mr. Wonka, and he saw his expression brighten slightly.

"Aw, calm down, Mr. Wonka. It's all over now." Charlie let out a light yelp when Mr. Wonka pushed him down lightly on the bed. "What the-?" 

"Enough of this nightmare talk..." Mr. Wonka placed a soft lingering kiss on Charlie's lips. "Now I'm gonna make your dreams come true."

Charlie grinned, and they kissed.

X

PetPetAngel: OMFG It's DONE! O.O Finally! Took me like two weeks to do this! -.- But I hope you guys liked it! **_Also, you may be curious about the title. "Red Chocolate." Does seem to relate much to the fic, right? Well, it's a metaphor kind of title, like... Red for blood, and bitterness. Chocolate is to represent Charlie, sweet and kind and addicting (to Wonka)! Anyway, the title is to represent the combination of the two in his life and how that makes him who he is._**

Trespasser: Shut up, peole don't CARE.

PetPetAngel: Eh, W/E. PLEASE REVIEW!

Now I must begin my revamping and rewriting of my old deleted fic "Just Another Broken Rule"! BWAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAAAAA! (coughs) (Ahem. I'm hyper. Please excuse me.) ****


End file.
